We are the Imperium of Mankind! Resistance is Futile
by Zeadman
Summary: A small" flotilla of the Imperial Navy is guarding the shipping and supply lanes heading to the Cadian Gate, during Abbadon's 13th Black Crusade. When a small,elongated vessel jumps out of warp... with no Astropath, and speaking an ancient earth dialect once known as "English". Aboard the USS. Glorious, which has just jumped out a major Borg incursion into Federation Space...
1. Chapter 1

uthors Note: I came up with the idea for this fan-fic cross over when i saw a picture of an Imperial Battleship, facing down a Borg Cube. The Cube said the typical "we are the Borg, resistance is futile." Then, the battleship said "we are the Imperium of Man, we are opening fire." I thought it was so funny, that I took my time and wrote this thing! Hope you enjoy reading it as much as i enjoyed writing it!

Capt. Louis sat on his throne, the center of his kingdom and the very heart of his ship. Orderlies ran around him scurrying like insects before the unyielding gaze of their tyrant God.  
>His ship, the battleship "Emperors Wrath", was alive with activity that Capt. Louis could feel through the wires that attached from the ships conjugators into his skull via wires that ran behind his throne. A steady stream of information, most of it a low hum of updated status reports from the thousands of ensigns and other low-level officers at the hundreds of stations across the ship, was easily ignored and pushed into the back of his mind.<p>

He felt pride at the efficient way that every member of his ship's crew worked in unison, each as interchangeable and usable as a cog in a machine. He knew that the Emperor was pleased, and he could feel his ships contentment as if it were his own.

But he was growing restless, as was his crew. There had been some minor incidents of crew-members disobeying regulations; primarily personal matters boiling over during the long stay in the black. It was nothing to be too worried about, but to Capt. Louis it only showed that his crew, that his ship, and that he were antsy, even gitty for some kind of action. Capt. Louis much like the rest of his crew wanted to go fight the heretics and the mutants and the warp spawn that comprised the black crusade of Abbadon The thrice damned.. They all wanted to serve the emperor, and what better way to do that then to destroy those that opposed everything that the Imperium of Mankind stood for.

The problem was someone needed to protect the supply lines from the surrounding sub-sectors caring supplies to the black gate and Cadia from raiding bands of corsairs and Dark Eldar. The ancient battleship "Emperor's Wrath", had been given that duty and honor. It was tedious work but Capt. Louis and his crew had many opportunities to gain victory and to see action; at least at the beginning. After they had defeated the Rogue pirates and small detachment of Dark Eldar corsairs that had plagued the system they were currently assigned to there hadn't been anything for them to do, and it had been that way for weeks.

And so Capt. Lewis and his crew waited for new orders to come. Capt. Louis had already sent orders for the senior Astropath aboard his ship to send immediate word of any messages going in or out of the ship; and he knew that sending the orders again would only make him look weak, or desperate. But damned it all, he wanted something to do!

So he had his men run a few drills, primarily test exercises just to keep them frosty and to ensure that any kinks in the system, or any damage that the Pirates might have caused had been repaired. He sent out another such drill simulation, and orders complete it by earth time 1000, this one slightly more complicated than the last. Sending copies to the various station commanders aboard his battleship, and commanders and captains of the small fleet of support ships, primarily destroyers and corvettes he had been granted command over by fleet Adm. Hassan. In total the fleet numbered approximately 40 destroyer and other support class screeners, 13 heavy cruisers, 2 battle-cruisers named Strife and Heavens Angel, and his own beloved Emperors Wrath.

Emperors Wrath sported an impressive amount of firepower even for a capital class ship, with thirteen Plasma Cannons and two massive Laser-Cannons, per battery. The massive ship having two batteries both on its port, and starboard sides, along with large amounts of macro-cannon batteries, and the prow of the vessel, and one massive Lance weapon that followed the length of it. Originally Capt. Louis had wanted his ship refitted with a Nova cannon because one shot from such a massive weapon would have been able to cripple even a battleship size craft, engulfing any surrounding support craft in the process; but his request had been denied, and no reason given… It was not a slight against him per say, but he supposed it was due to the significantly powerful lance weapon that his ship already supported was of an ancient pattern that was rare, and almost unknown; the tech-priests must have had a conniption fit when they saw his request.

Capt. Louis knew the men would grumble at their newest orders; though the crews and the other captains aboard the support craft would welcome the distraction. Capt. Lewis and the other flotilla commanders knew that it would be good for some of their new crew members as well. Helping the replacements from the Naval Academy's around keresseract tertiary, to gain some hands-on experience with their equipment before they got into any real combat. They all knew that simulations and even border skirmishes with pirates and renegades might be useful, but it never beat working with real equipment in the void of space. Nothing like the constant threat of being spaced should you make a mistake to encourage quick learning, that was Capt. Lewis's opinion anyway.

"Sir, rift opening approximately three light minutes outside of the system." said one of the watch standers who advised him and help him sort through the immense amount of data that the ship created. A split second later the information and emergency warp activity symbol appeared both in his mind and on his display.

"Class and make of those ships commander? Are they Imperial, traitor, or xenos?" Asked the captain voice calm as if ordering his noon meal. The watch stander pressed a few buttons before answering. Then, voice quivering with fear and confusion said "class heavy cruiser equivalent, make unknown, potential origin, Xenos." A few moments passed by as Capt. Louise's other watch standers did their jobs appraising the potential threat level, projecting intercept courses, and possible boarding and other combat tactics. Each one of these reports was sent to him with a high priority alert attached so that he could find them amid the rest of the battleships data.  
>"It's damaged already?" Came Capt. Lewis's voice confusion evident. "It's been in some kind of fight probably limping away. Highly advanced technology level for a Xenos race in this subsector, the few offensive capabilities it has are extremely powerful. Though those seem damaged perhaps even in operable."<p>

Small yellow flags suddenly appeared on Capt. Lewis's screen indicating that no major information had been missed on first examination by his watch standers as they re-checked and triple checked the information they had sent to him. He touched each symbol allowing the updated information to rewrite the existing files on his system. The only major addition was a projected estimated position of the Xenos ship based upon its level of technology and potential damage that it had taken, again estimated upon the watch standers visual examination.  
>Capt. Louis made a mental note to have the slow watch stander reevaluated, and possibly demoted for her slow report.<p>

Pushing the small symbol on his throne arm which allowed him access to the ships announcement system, Capt. Louis addressed his ship. "Men and women of the Imperium, ahead of us roughly 30 minutes away, is a Xenos ship of unknown make or model. Possibly being pursued by other unknown forces, prepare for boarding action and combat contact. A more exact time frame will be sent out within the hour to station commanders. The emperor protects, that is all." Capt. Lewis sent a similar message to the captains and commanders of the rest of the flotilla. He received shortly thereafter text responses of affirmation from first his ships station commanders then the commanders and captains of the flotilla.

Capt. Louis felt the ship start to accelerate at combat speed, nearly .3 light-speed as he pressed a button and approved the intercept course that his combat and navigation watch standers had sent him. It was an effective if inelegant plan, one he would expect from junior officers fresh out of the academy, or senior officers who had learned the benefit of simplicity given the complicated projections and math required to fight fleet engagements at relative speeds.

Before the arrival of the Xenos ship, the bridge had been filled with noise and noncombat related business. Now however, that busily buzzing hive like sounds were replaced with a tension and quiet as thick as the battleships armor, the only sounds were the breathing of shipmen and clicking of keys as orders, assessments, and combat projections and preparations were created and sent by way of the ships machine spirits in the internal communication system.  
>While his officers worked diligently ordering his ship into combat readiness, Capt. Louis ran simulation after stimulation trying to find the best possible formation for the tiny flotilla to take when it met with a heavily armed Xenos ship. Projections as to what the enemy ships weapons exactly were, where little more than educated guess work. But that guesswork was what had saved the Emperor's wrath, on more than one occasion. It was Capt. Lewis's policy to always assume the worst when it came to unknowns of this type, and he plugged that into his simulations.<p>

The problem with that however was that he was forced assume the enemies firepower was similar to his own battleships. Imperial battleships, particularly the ancient near Horace heresy age ships like his own were the most fearsome thing that Capt. Louis had ever seen and so he gave the enemy ship the same capabilities. Capt. Louis knew this, but there was little he could do about his lack of information.

In truth as Capt. Louis read the projected tonnage of the vessel it was less than three quarters of a heavy cruiser, a whole two class sizes smaller than his battleship. In addition it structure was odd, a disk like main body connected by an elongated chassis to two massive warp drives. The projected power output of those drives astound Capt. Louis, though he had seen other things in his time as captain this was still an extraordinarily rare sight. Regardless of the high level of technology, Capt. Luis believed that the structure of the ship was fragile, and not suited for battle as much as it would be for speed.

"Sir, we are intercepting a transmission from the enemy vessel on a wide bandwidth. I think they are trying to speak to anyone who will listen sir, it seems a distress signal of some kind though it's not in high or low Gothic."  
>"Is it in any recognizable language lieutenant?"<br>"The machine sprint is checking now."  
>"Has there been any kind of warp signature detected in the signal?"<p>

"I have picked up on captain". Came a third voice from behind his throne. It was the ships navigator who had spoken, voice week but ringing with an unearthly tone that seemed to echo across the chamber filling the whole bridge.

Capt. Louis shivered at the voice, turning his head toward its source. The navigator was a thin man, unashamed of his abb-human origins or his connection to the warp. The man was in-pious not feeling the shame that he so rightfully deserved. The man carried himself as if he were royalty, which as a member of a high navigator house he was as close to it as an abb-human could be. Needing the mutant to traverse the dangers of the warp never sat right with Capt. Louis.

"Thank you navigator, please leave the rest of this to the professionals. Now," Capt. Lewis said to a young female watch stander, "Tell me what the machine spirits say."  
>The woman answered with a shaky voice obviously nervous about getting caught between the two most powerful men on the ship. "Sir the machine spirits assessment matches with the navigators. The message is clean."<p>

"I Believe captain that they don't even have a navigator; very dangerous for such a large ship." Again the oddly echoing voice, again coming from behind the captain throne.  
>"And why navigator do you believe that" said the captain voice tight with annoyance.<p>

"I would be able to sense his or her warp signature even from this far away. If it was from one of the minor houses it would have a sour tinge to it, if they was from one of the other high houses, it would feel hot, filled with their arrogance. Instead I simply feel nothing, like staring into the void. When I know I should see stars all I see is blackness."

That is odd, thought Capt. Luis, as he pressed a button on his arm rest that would allow him to cut off the navigator's communication with all but the bridge. It was a petty move, but Capt. Luis knew that if his crew grew use to hearing the navigator being right or even the navigator giving council to him, that they would start to see the navigator as his equal. It was rare, but it had happened before. "Before you communicate to my bridge again navigator, I insist that you send me any reports that might help us verify data gathered by our systems via text message. If you do not, I may have to replace you with one of your acolytes until the commissariat can teach you better methods of dealing with that insubordinate toung." Capt. Louis's voice was cool and professional, and heard only by the navigator. The captain would never dare undermine the navigator in front of the crew directly; it would undermine the crew's confidence in the navigator, and could very easily cause morale issues. But in privet, the direct threat had its desired effect, and the navigator went right back focusing on his personal station and duties, trying to pretend nothing had transpired between the two.

Capt. Louis knew full well that he would never act on the threat; but then again there were stories enough of commissars summarily executing any psyker who seemed to uppity, or arrogant about their own power and influence; simply to avoid any potential for them to become a direct moral threat. The stories and his threat rang with enough truth that it might stop the navigator from interfering with his watch-standers duties or morale again.

Canceling the privet conference with a press of a button, Capt. Louis checked on the preparations of the various aspects of the flotilla, then his own ship, for counter boarding actions, sustained broadsides, counter-cyber attacks by malicious machine spirits, and the priests who would see to the spiritual needs of his men as they would soon face battle, and perhaps the depravity of some as yet unknown Xenos.

Capt. Louis clicked the external long range communications suite, and sent out a transmition that would take roughly eight minutes to reach the smaller ship. "Attention Foreign ship, you have entered Imperial Space! Surrender and you will not be harmed. Lower your shields, power down your weapons, and prepare to be boarded and searched. If you do not comply, you will feel the full wrath and power of the Emperors Wrath, and may he have mercy on your souls."

They were ready, or at least close to it. When they were, which would be well before they reached combat range, these Xenos would be facing the full fury and wrath of the Emperor, embodied in his faithful servants.


	2. Chapter 2

Author Note: For some reason no spell check knows how to spell the word Transmition... I apologize but i am just to lazy to go through and fix this spelling mistake... Hope you enjoy this! This time its from Star-fleets perspective!

"Captain Thomas! There is a transmition coming in on wide bandwidth from the foreign fleet." The young navigation officer's voice was resolute. After the battle they had just experienced against their greatest foe, this ship no matter how large and its sizable flotilla, it could be a fleet in its own right, was nothing.

"The universal translator is having some trouble. It's of no known species sir, and seems to have some elements of English…" came a female voice from behind Captain Thomas. Communications officer and Xeno-linquistic specialist Terra's voice was tired. They were all tired, and they had lost so many friends.

The captain forced his voice to sound upbeat, even a little bit optimistic; after all maybe these new people can help them. Maybe they knew how to defeat the enemy, implacable and determined as they were, that was even now chasing them through warp space at incredible speeds. "How long will it take for the translator to make it out?", "Roughly fifteen minutes sir, depending on the complexity of the syntax and the how large a sample the transmition gives it to work with, sir."

"That's the first good news I have heard all day. How about you Miss Terra, can you give it your best shot in the mean time?" the captains question seemed to energize her as her mind was put on something other than their dire circumstances.

"Well as I said captain it has elements of English. I would be guessing, but I believe it also has elements of French, Russian, and even Latin. If I am correct in my guessing as to the meaning of some completely foreign words sir, the message is an order of some kind… Possibly for us to surrender though I can't be cretin until the computer completes its analysis." Her voice had taken on the tone of a teacher, lecturing a student who had forgotten to study for the test. Captain Thomas smiled slightly at that, the shock of what they had experienced was finally starting to wear off for his crew, at least a little.

"Would make sense… we just jumped into their star system without invitation, heavily armed and with substantial damage to our vassal. They are probably wondering what trouble we are going to bring into their home uninvited. When you finish translating that message Miss Terra, please let me know. Mean time what are the status of our warp engines Mr. Ultara? How long until we can get to warp." The captain's voice sounded energized too, which surprised him more than it did his crew.

It will take some time sir" came a young voice to Captain Thomas's left. A young man sat at a desk, various readouts and engineering estimations and damage reports filled the man's screen from what Capt. Thomas could see. "Worst case scenario… a week, best case…oh where is that file… Here we go, best case estimation is three days Captain, if we can find the materials needed on one of these planets to build some of the materials we need. Otherwise it will take a lot longer to find non-critical places that we can take the material, from the ships hall, and internal systems to manufacture those parts sir." The young man was all business, multi=tasking by answering the captains questions while simultaneously reading, and then filing electronic damage reports. "There is good news though captain, we have been able to restore full sub-light capability and can get up to a maximum of .2 light speed if we push the engines sir."

"That is good news!" Captain Thomas said cheerfully. "Though, what is preventing us from going to the maximum .3?"

"Sir, that would be the haul damage. In addition the inertial dampeners which hold the ship together, and protect us from relativistic effects inside the ship, have taken some damage. The other dampeners can compensate, but only to a point sir."

"Thank you Mr Ultara. Now, how about weapons and shields? What is our current stock pile of photon torpedoes look like?" Captain Thomas asked as he turned to his right, and the combat officers station.

"we are all full stock pile sir. We didn't have the opportunity to fire the frontal tubes on the first pass with the rest of the fleet before we were ordered to leave system for help." The only man on the bridge that was older then the captain was Commander Yavic, a veteran of every major engagement that Starfleet had seen fit to intervene, in this sector. With over fifty full scale fleet engagements under his belt, captain Thomas had thought that Yavic's voice would have been the calmest, instead it broke, obviously filled with emotion.

"Commander Yavic, are you fit for duty? Why don't you take a few hours sleep to brace yourself. In the mean time have Ensign Jonathan join us on the bridge covering your spot." The captain meant it as a request and question, but instead to his surprise his voice was filled with Iron, and the request came out as an order. Yavic looked at the captain, tears and anger in his eyes, obviously willing to rebel if the captain did not withdraw the order. In a much softer and friendlier tone, Captain Thomas said "That was a request commander, not an order. If you are honestly fit for duty, then please stay… we could use your expertise, as most of us are not as familiar with combat as you are."

Nodding, commander Yavic whipped his eyes, and tears that had been falling, with his sleeve before saying "I am fit sir, thank you for your concern. It is hard to see everything, all the sacrifices to keep our homes safe from the hundreds of threats, made by men and women no longer with us, turned meaningless in so short a time." Suddenly commander Yavics voice was steel, its usual tone. "But, if we can't defend our home, the least we can do is avenge it, sir."

The captain raised his eyebrows; talk of revenge was not ordinary for a Star-fleet officer of any rank, let alone someone of Yavics caliber. But then again, so much had changed in so short a time, and the enemy that now hunted them was so different from anything they had ever faced, that perhaps vengeance was the proper course of action. "All 16 phaser banks at full power captain, but the plasma cannons are currently inoperable. They took damage from an energy weapon just before we entered warp. Deflector shields are at 50 percent forward, and 20 aft word sir."

"Understood Commander, Good work everyone. Let's get our bird fixed up and home and start hunting some Borg" The last statement was met with silence, and determined gazes as the crew members on the bridge of the galaxy class federation cruiser USS Glorious, all nodded in agreement.


	3. Chapter 3

Authors Note: Now... for the Borg! Remember, Resistance is Futile! Oh... and there is still more to come, i just dont have time today... i hope to get it done some time this week...

The Collective, The Borg, appeared in the system designated 1036982Qs5, and immediately completed a visual, and sensor sweep. The system comprised of two worlds inhabited by species 5618. The remaining three planetoids had no industrialization, or signs of living organisms. The Borg detected ruins of a former civilization intact and buried approximately 1/3ed of the way into the planets crust, on the furthest one of these. The Queen, 8 of 14 marked it for further study, then turned the collective's attention toward the moderate level threat alerts that her drones had sent her.

"Those ships are ridiculously large..." she said to herself referring to the flotilla of gigantic vessels that were descending upon the Federation ship that had escaped, only temporarily, from the assimilation of their home world. It was one of the few traits that bleed through from her former life, stating the obvious in order to cement her thoughts in her mind. "There… there is our prey, well my children it's time we go hunting." She smiled as she pet the drone she stood behind, as it dutifully worked at the sensor station. She reached down and pressed a combat intercept command that she didn't need to. All she really needed to do was think of it, and her drones would do it; but she relished the ability to do things that were not always the most efficient course of action, though just as effective.

It was something so few of the Borg had the ability to do, most were simply members of the collective. A beautiful thing, a powerful thing, a nearly perfect thing to be relished, to be connected to hundreds of billions of minds throughout the universe with nearly infinite access to information and wisdom… But not for her… She was ripped out of the collective nearly five years ago along with 13 others, and made into an individual once again in order to give the Collective the ability to make decisions that were not always the most efficient, but needed for non-material or illogical reasons. The program was relatively new, as the beta-queens, and alpha-queen that had been produced had lead the Borg to nearly being wiped out in some parts of the galaxy. Her area of direct control, was alpha quadrant, the home of Earth and the so called Federation of Planets that had silenced so many voices in the collective.

The Cube, accelerated to .3 light speed, combat speed. .3 light speed was the speed at which relativistic effects could still be counteracted or compensated for with the extensive computing power of the Collective. Beyond that point and relativistic distortion and probability was impossible, even for the Borg, to compensate for.

The two supporting long range tactical vessels that had been designated as screening craft if the Borg had to engage with the large fleet in system, followed suit.

While her children dealt with the pitiful defenses of race 5618's ship and assimilated them, she would make first contact… it was one of the few things she enjoyed about being Queen, meeting new people before she gave them the ultimate gift, becoming members of the Collective.

Flipping a small switch on her console embedded in her forearm which she didn't need to do, she accessed the universal translator and system wide communications suite, and she made first contact.


	4. Chapter 4

Capt. Luis watched the events of the last half hour unfold as the oddly shaped xenos ships did combat with one another. The spheres, designated support craft alpha and beta, descended upon the more elongated vassal. The battle was quick and painful for both sides, as the support craft beta was destroyed by a sustained and relentless assault by what the tech priest had called "null-beam projectors", an old and extremely rare archiotech thought lost thousands of years ago, lashed out from the longer ship ripping into alpha's hull causing a core overload. The resulting explosion would have been enough to overwhelm the shields of even a grand-cruiser at close range, but the two remaining combatants ignored it off as if it were nothing.

Soon after however, Support craft alpha was able to not only lower the elongated ships shields, but systematically target and destroy its propulsion drives, warp cores, and then disable every weapon that Capt. Luis's watch stander's had identified. The ship and her crew still refused surrender, as evidence of ship board fighting began to immerge, and support craft alpha ceased fire abruptly.

"do the Oddly Green glowing Xenos ships have stealth boarding craft that am unaware of?" he asked his tactical watch stander in charge of boarding plans and execution.

"Not that our sensors picked up sir. We detected no movement, use of warp drives, and no visual confirmation of exhaust. My tactical analysis captain is that they have teleported aboard the ship after disabling her completely." Capt. Luis frowned, then growled in frustration, almost instantly beads of sweat appeared on everyone's brow.

"Have we decrypted the first Xenos language yet? I need to know what that message was!" Capt. Luis nearly yelled, but contained his rage, and controlled his volume… somewhat at least, by pounding his clenched fist onto the empty arm chair on his throne.

"The Machine spirits are finishing now sir, they say it's an old earth dialect… ancient… from before the emperors assention… from before the age of strife and the even before the Dark age of Technology sir!"The man's voice was disbelief incarnate.

"If you keep stalling, I will have you strung up by your entrails! What does the message say you ingrate!" Capt. Thomas roared over the bridge, breaking the silence as a battleships prow lance would a light cruiser… that is with little difficulty at all.

"Sir!" the young officer nearly yelled, fear evident. "The message is a request for assistance. They say they are from earth and need repair, and that they are being chased by forces they name the… Borg, sir." His voice cut off, as another picked up the flow of verbal information, as much more detailed reports were sent from their stations to his throne. "Already checked sir, no known information on this enemy, however assessing their shield strength, the tonnage of their ships, and what little known capability we have seen, along with the records that the tech priest sent us on those ancient weapons our ancestors were using, we can estimate with at least some accuracy as to their capabilities. If the large cube-esq ship is anything like those spheres, it is more than a match for a grand cruiser on its own, perhaps even a match for a battleship. Given support from remaining support craft which is estimated to be a match for a heavy cruiser, then our odds of victory with minimal losses goes up significantly."

Capt. Thomas knew the second, tactical analyst watch stander was correct. He had assumed just as much when he had been running his simulations earlier on, and had taken into account that the spheres were probably as, if not more maneuverable then a heavy cruiser. "have we received, or even picked up on any transimitions from these…'Borg' yet?" the question was to the bridge in general, and Thomas waited for anyone to respond.

His most senior watch stander, and the ships third in command, Manerva Slovack broke the silence. "We have picked up some signals, but I couldn't make them out sir. I sent them to tech-priest Joseph for analysis and have not received his report yet." Her voice trailed off, and eyes went back to her console, hard at work once again; showing off the dedicated nature and work ethic that had earned her the position as ships third.

Somewhat placated, and worlds calmer from his earlier outburst, Capt. Thomas hit the direct communication button on the other arm rest on his throne, and selected the eccentric, yet brilliant tech-priest.

The screen was dark for a few seconds, as the Tech-Priest probably had not yet noticed the request for a direct visual audience from the captain; or simply chose to ignore it while he finished whatever project he was working on. The captain smirked at the thought, knowing that the only two people in the whole fleet who would dare to something like that without cause was this tech-priest who was just under the level of arch-magus, just as he was just under the rank of admiral though playing the role; and that demandable navigator sitting right behind him on his own silvery throne, surrounded by void shields and a personal warp stabilization field covered in glyph s of warding and protection.

But Capt. Thomas liked the tech-priest, just as he hated the navigator. The Tech-priest was eccentric to be sure, all knowledge and theory, and refusing to get any augmentation unless it was necessary for a project, or for his health as his body grew older. That adversity to non-essential augmentation was what had attracted Thomas's attention in the first place, Thomas never liked how other tech priests were constantly throwing away body parts and replacing them with machine 'upgrades'. IT was not that Thomas was against augmentation its self, he personally had several such as the brain implant that allowed him to interface with the ship, and which was required of every captain in the Imperial Navy. He had just been raised by his mother, who had also been a captain in the Navy until she retired to raise him, that the human body was a beautiful thing, a gift from the emperor.

The screen flickered, as Joseph answered and accepted the privet conference; grey hair, and optic sensor that replaced his left eye looking very odd juxtaposed to one another. "Captain, I was about to call you. I have deciphered the whole message from the Xenos cube. They call themselves the Borg. Would you like to hear the message translated into high gothic?"

Capt. Louis nodded "Yes, I would. Though I need you to send it to me via this privet conference, so that it is secure." The tech-priest nodded, as if finally realizing the need to keep this kind of information secure.

"Easily done captain, here it is." The tech-priest's image was minimized to the bottom left side of the screen, another image appeared taking up the rest of the screen. A woman with extensive mechanical augmentation that reminded Capt. Louis of some of the highest level tech-priests he had met in his long serving career. The only flesh that was visible were the women's shoulders, and face, though these too showed signs of extensive and highly advanced personal augmentations. Her voice sounded as if it were trying to be feminine and kind but failing as it struggled against its synthesized nature.

"We are the Borg" she said, motioning to the chamber that she stood in, presumably the command center on one of the Xenos ships. "Your technological and sociological distinctiveness will be added to our own. Lower your shields, power down your weapons and prepare to be assimilated. Resistance is futile." The last phrase sounded almost cheerful, as if being 'assimilated' whatever that meant, was a good thing.

"Do you think they mean to negotiate?" Capt. Luis said, though his voice betrayed his skepticism. The tech-priest's image took up the whole screen again, as he shook his head.

"No captain, from what I have gathered from analyzing the footage that was broadcast with the audio message, they are a collective of multiple species, probably linked together via a highly advanced neural network. I don't think they mean us any kind of good will sir, particularly with the immediate demise of the human vessel that is presumably from an as of yet unknown human civilization under the delusion that their home world is holy Terra." The words came out in a constant stream of information that probably would have continued had Capt. Luis not raised his hand to stop the tech-priest.

"Thank you for the analysis Tech-Priest. Do you think that they might be able to attack with machine spirits effectively?" The question stopped the tech-priest in his tracks for a second as he contemplated an answer.

"Perhaps sir; However the defensive Machine Spirits that I have placed, and the ships own natural fire walls should be enough to protect it against all but the most powerful cyber attacks… hum… it might be prudent for me to create a few more defensive machine spirits and loose them into the system just in case I am wrong in my assessment. My expertise is after all, not in cyber-network defense, but lies in ...other areas." Again, the tech-priests voice sounded like one long run on sentence, and left the Captain wondering, not for the first time, when he breathed.

"Good idea, consider it an order then. Coordinate with the rest of the flotillas tech-priest's and engine-seers, engineers and commanders as necessary. You have my full authority behind you." Capt. Luis's voice took on an edge of steel. "And Tech-priest, remember, we have a fifteen minute window until we are in combat range. Make this your highest priority."

The tech-priest nodded before saying "it's already underway captain… Oh Omnissiah protect us... Captain? We have this same message being broadcast throughout the system in low Gothic. It seems these Borg have been able to work out our language from the limited transmitions they have received. The two inhabited planets in system are going to receive the message is approximately two hours sir."

"Has the rest of the flotilla received this message?" Capt. Louis asked, as three small alert signals appeared on his station and in his mind. They were messages from the two Battle-cruiser captains, and the most senior commander among the detachment of smaller support craft. "Hold on tech-priest…" he said as he opened all three messages. The three ship commanders were acting on behalf of their divisions of either the smaller capital-ship class heavy cruisers, or the lighter support craft. They were requests for instructions regarding the transmition, if it was to be ignored, stored for further study, or some special instructions that Capt. Louis had in mind. He sent the same order to everyone; scrub the message for any kind of warp, or hidden machine-curse's, then store it for future study by the tech-priests and the Ordos Xenos. He didn't want to not have it should an inquisitor ask for a copy to study.

"Alright Tech-priest, I have handled the fleets exposure. Do you need anything from me in order to do your job?" Capt. Louis asked not unkindly. He never wanted the men and women under his command to ever feel like they did not receive the needed tools and support to do their jobs, if he could help it.

"No Captain, our efforts at increasing the flotillas cyber defense is well underway. If there is no further need for this communication channel to be open, I could use its bandwidth to speed up the work." Nodding Capt. Louis shut off the connection and allocated any extra computing power that the ship had to the control of the tech-priest and his acolytes.

Capt. Louis checked the time until engagement range was reached, roughly twelve minutes. Just enough time to make another call, and issue a few more orders to prepare for the upcoming battle. He checked the fleet registry, and found what he needed under "Flotilla tertiary auxilari", how they would be angry if they ever found out that they were considered tertiary auxiliaries to the fleet, but they never would find out. The Capt. Quickly switched them to the section called "Primus Auxilari" and noted them as "independent elements" from the fleet command hierarchy. Only then did he click on the small 'communications' icon near the name "Storm-wolf: Audacious Hunter".

The small waiting icon, a servitor scull, swirled as the call attempted to connect. The massive form of Wolf-Guard Alaric appeared on screen, and Capt. Louis jumped slightly on his throne; Surprised to see a massive, only slightly cooked and still bleeding stake being torn apart by the leader of the small detachment of Space Wolf's Space Marines. "Capt. Louis! Good to see you! What can we do for you?" the man said between giant bites.

"I need you to get your Space Marines ready for a boarding action. You will be supported by elements from the Heavy Cruiser Saint Augustine's Rage, but you will be leading the charge." The Wolfish Space Marine nodded his understanding as he ate the last of the stake in a giant gulp.

"Understood sir; you should know captain, that while these young bloods are almost ready to become grey hunters, they are still as reckless as pups on their first hunt! If you want us to clear the whole ship, that won't be a problem, but restraint once they are in the battle rage, it will be hard to control them." Capt. Louis nodded his understanding of the situation.

"If I understand correctly Wolf Guard Alaric, that is why you have been granted use of terminator armor." The Space wolf turned red with rage, but Capt. Louis raised a hand to forestall his angry outburst. "But I understand, no leader can be everywhere at once. Please coordinate with Saint Augustine's Rage, and her captain in order to plan out the best possible situation before sending me your plan. You have roughly ten minutes in order to get that done, let's not waste time." The captain said, as Alaric visibly calmed as the realization of the restraints of time, and the steely determination the man showed before battle took control of his anger. "Understood sir, the Emperor Protects, Storm-Wolf: Audacious Hunter out." the screen went dark as the Space Wolf commander terminated the link.

I really should insure I honor them at the earliest opportunity, or I might find myself facing a mutiny orchestrated by a pissed off Space Marine Commander." Capt. Louis said to himself. He looked at the combat range indicator and realized the flotilla was only five minutes away from combat range.

"Captain! We have another temporal rift opening up!" Came commander Slovack, her voiced tense with anticipation. Capt. Louis pulled up the visual display showing the Borg Cube, and suddenly, as if materializing out of nowhere two additional Cubes appeared; the rift invisible to the naked eye.


	5. Chapter 5

The two class 4 tactical vessel's appeared unexpectedly, and the Borg Queen smiled. Now she would be able to even the odds a little bit, as her remaining support sphere finished the work of assimilation aboard the Star-Fleet vessel; only five more decks to go, and the ship's crew would be fully assimilated.

Tactical Cubes 369 and 158 were armed and armored roughly fifteen times more than a typical assimilation cube. These vassals were used when the Collective its self was under direct threat, or when a race that needed to be assimilated were a particularly tough nut to crack; and that is why she had brought them along when she assaulted Earth. She had not known that they had followed her through the temporal rift that had been created by the odd combination of Federation Warp technology and the Borg's modulating, and high powered phasers and cutter laser beams that had all been directed at the vassal as it jumped.

The queen was aware the millisecond the other cubes arrived, as they searched out and connected instantaneously with the Cube and Sphere currently under her command, using sub-space transmition suites that were standard in every Borg vassal. The queen's attention was directed at the fleet of potentially hostile life forms hurtling towards the Collective's vassals at combat speed. They were almost within weapons range now, only two minutes until that happened. But that was an eternity to the Borg who thought almost at the speed of light.

The penetrating scan of the closest of the vassals, a smaller craft roughly the size of one of the drones in her cubes launch bay, but extremely heavily armed; revealed almost nothing… Odd, the energy used by the strange vassals to power their shields was new to the Collective.

A second scan, this one modulated to penetrate the shields, revealed an astonishingly high crew count for the small craft. In addition the ship had an amazingly high power output, and they were crewed by… "odd… species 5618… So, this is what becomes of you? Armed to the teeth…" her long range sensors, and cyber suites allowed her to penetrate into the smaller ships mainframe and steal data on their histories and the current state of the universe. "And desperately fighting a losing war, on multiple fronts, while losing knowledge of science and technology all along the way… This, God Emperor… Deific figure that actually exists… useful data for a later date." She told herself as she downloaded everything she could rip from the ship before its computer defenses could respond.

She withdrew quickly, and assimilated the data into her memory banks and shared it with the collective as a whole. One thing popped into her mind that the collective felt might be useful… use of mechanical and cybernetic augmentation on a much lower level then the Borg used, was wide spread. She made plans to exploit that should the opportunity arise.

Her examination and analysis continued, as she only had 100 seconds left, she prioritized the hostile fleets weapon systems and potential tactics. According to the collective, which downloaded the analysis of the data she had just shared, into her cortex. "So" she thought out loud, voice speaking faster than any living being could understand, "The most likely tactics for ships built with those capabilities and armor placement, is the old human tactic of a close range broad side… effective and highly dangerous with their armament, if they can reach us."

The hostile fleet would have to run the gauntlet of fire from three Borg Cubes. Each one bringing nearly fifty banks of improved phasers to bear, and firing hundreds of shield draining missiles; only to then face those same weapons up close, while also facing the dangerous laser cutters which could cut through almost any metal with ease with the shields down. But that was what the missiles were for after all.

In her mind, sending the order at nearly instantaneous speeds, she ordered the two heavily armored cubes toward the front, in screening positions of her Cube. Then, to release all Probes, and Spheres that they currently carried in their various hangers to counter the screening vassals that the other fleet would use to distract the Cubes phaser banks. Each Cube was to then put one corner facing the enemy head on, so that three full sides of each Cube could bring the deadly banks of weapons of three sides of the vessels to bear against the larger enemy ships at once. This would also deny the enemy ships a direct target to ram against with their heavily armored prows, deflecting some of the energy that they would produce going at fractions of the speed of light.

It wasn't perfect, and the Collective didn't like the fact that the situation couldn't be improved upon. However the odds of victory, and the potential to assimilate so many sentient members of species 5618 from this time period and the wealth of knowledge that they contained, was worth the risk.

The smaller Probes and two additional spheres that were more heavily armed and armored then the screening craft then the queen had brought with her, poured from the heavier Borg vassals. She ordered her own Cube into position, as it too spewed forth nearly fifteen additional Probes that she contributed to the growing support flotilla of much lighter vassals.

It only took her ships seconds to get into position, as the superior computing power, and near instantaneous communication that the Borg were capable of, allowed the small fleet to maneuver at higher relative speeds then combat would generally allow.

20 seconds left until extreme combat range was reached with the enemy fleet… the queen smiled, and the Collective, if it could be said to smile, at the very least seemed eager as they realized that species 5618 most likely didn't have the time to react and change formation to best counter her new strategy; nor did she believe that they would have wanted to change tactics if they had the option. The collective would grow today, and that was why the queen smiled; so many would be given the ultimate gift, and she would be there to witness it.


	6. Chapter 6

Authors Note: Ok everyone, here it is! the fighting begins now! I also have a few notes to help those who have questions about specific ship capability's here, so if you don't care and trust me... just skip over this section and continue reading.

On Imperial Fire Power

Some sources say that the Imperial Navy Battleships are 3 miles long... Some say much smaller then this. I interpret this difference as being due to the vastness of the Imperium of mankind, and the odd kind of 'standered issue' diversity that comes along with it. So i have chosen to create a new class of Battleship, ancient from the time of the emperor. This is one of those 3 mile long ships armed heavily with close range weapons, but also not useless at long range. Additionally, some sources say that the Plasma Annihilator Cannon, which is mounted on some Titans, is the same type of Plasma Cannon that is mounted on space ships... if this is the case then these are not "firing Suns" at the enemy, they are firing MASSIVE amounts of Supper Heated Plasma... that can reach the temperature of the sun... so yea i can understand how some people get that confused. Additionally, most Battleships are armed with Macro-Cannons, which are massive cannons ... that's it... think basilisks in space that fire very very quickly for basilisks. Additionally, none of these weapons are very accurate at long range, except the LANCE weapons. that is why i have been primarily using them for long range...

+Strong Weapons, some strong enough to shoot "mini-suns" at the enemy. People tend to over exaggerate this powerful weapon just because it is so devastating! Its name is literally the Plasma Annihilator Cannon... yea...and the ship has BANKS of these things...however they are only useful in extremely short range (relatively), and can backfire doing damage to the ship using them unless either an engine-seer or tech-priest (both levels of the tech priesthood) to oversee their use, and make augmentations when necessary.

+Heavy, multiple overlapping shields, ('voidshield suit' is not just these shields however.)

+ Extremely thick armor... the armor of a battleship, or even a battle cruiser, is roughly as thick as one of the support craft that screen for it... well when you are a few miles long, i doubt putting a couple of extra layers of armor on is that much of a burden on the construction yards... or their slaves muahahaha

+ Determined Crews, that have seen action a heck of a lot more then anyone in the Federation has or ever will hopefully... muahahaha

- These weapons are not very accurate at long range, with a few exceptions...

-/+ Missiles are very susceptible to being destroyed by accurate firepower (check out when the Eldar fight the Imperial Navy... The Navy never uses missiles because they know they are useless against that type of accurate, and fast firepower... which is what the Borg have in this case. However, if even one strikes home, it could easily turn the tide of this battle, though what captain or commander, even in the Imperial Navy would use a vortex weapon any where near where they are going to be... i dont know...

-/+ Tech-Priests are basically scientists that also believe in the "machine god"... and they are extremely skilled and heavily augmented in order to do their jobs correctly... some are even more augmented then a regular Borg drone... sheesh... and they are amazing at programming... you can even say its their... first language! (bud dum tssss)

On Borg/ Star-Trek universes capability

A lot of people have complained that the Borg wont be able to hold up against the extremely powerful weapons of the Imperium of Mankind. However, let me remind you that we have only ever seen normal, Borg assimilation Cubes in action, and only ONCE seen a Borg Tactical Cube in ANY of the Star-Trek series. Sense we have so little information on them, other then its official Borg name (Type 4 tactical Cube), we have to run off of that and make extrapolations. we can say 1, that there are more then one type of tactical cube. 2, that normal Borg cubes are not designed to fight wars with species that the Borg consider dangerous, but rather to assimilate much weaker or technologically inferior races. In this fanfic, i have decided to choose to make the tactical cube a type of Borg Cube used when the Collective its self is in danger, or when there is a race needing assimilated, but is a particularly difficult race to assimilate due to their military might. in truth we have no specs on the Borg Tactical Cube's other then they are much more highly armored and shielded, they hold bays of probes, and probably Cary a more heavily armored Borg Sphere... though this last one has no basis in the story's, just in logic.

+ Much stronger understanding of technology in general

+ instantaneous communication

+ faster then light travel without having to worry about WARP space, and daemons killing you... yea i would like this tech to please?

+ Faster Weapon Recharge Time

+ Ability to 'slowly' adapt (meaning it takes them a little while, but within a day or so they can generally adapt either new armor, stronger shields, or the right type of shields to stop a new enemy's weapons.)

+ Ability to gain more men/ members when the enemy takes losses.

+ Great at boarding actions... though kinetic weapons it tends to take a lot longer for them to adapt to.

+Borg weapons however are VASTLY longer range, and VASTLY more accurate and can fire and a much higher rate then the Navy's Laser Cannons.

- Vastly weaker weaponry, roughly the same strength i am guessing as a Laser Cannon, which at medium and close range combat can cut through a battleships armor... and are particularly good at swatting away support craft in a single shot.

- weaker shields (though only slightly)

- Fewer numbers (in this case... normally? the Imperium and Borg probably control the same amount of space... so i don't know... good question.)

Anyway i hope that satisfied, or at least clarified what i am going for here... Please, also post Coherent reviews... and so help me by the emperor if i see flamers you guys will be either deleted if it is an anonymous review, or reported if its from your profile... haters will not be tolerated! legitimate questions, and criticism only please... and please do review? it helps me improve a lot to see what questions and concerns you guys have with my writing, just remember the time tested and true rule of thumb... Dont be a jerk.

"Brothers and sisters! There is a day in the future, perhaps not far from now, when our courage collapses, and when we call for aid it will not arrive! When the Last Days shall be upon us! When our friends and allies shall turn their backs on us, leaving us behind forgotten and abandoned out of necessity and the greater good of all of humanity! The day when the skies shall rain blood and faith in the emperor alone is the only thing that stands between us and the Arch Enemy of our beloved Father! When our weapons and Gods of war stand broken and shattered on the ground at our feet, or in floating debris fields that blot out the stars for light years around! When all we can do to further our beloved Emperors cause, is to spit in the eye of Chaos its self as we stare it down in all of its insane, mind bending filth!

But today is not that day brothers and sisters! For we shall avenge those that have fallen! Today, even though they know not the emperor out of their innocent ignorance. The emperor has seen fit to send us to save these lost souls from the treachery of the Xenos and Tech-Heresy, as they even now fight a bitter battle to the end, doing all of mankind proud in their defiance! Today is that day of despair for them, but unbeknownst to those beleaguered warriors of the highest caliber, we shall be the emperor's grace and saving hand! Let us now remember our hatred for the heretic, and that we despise the Xenos in all of its trickery and savage ways! Kill The Mutant, Burn the Heretic, Purge the Unclean!"

The priest sermon even touched Capt. Louis, as it played over the whole fleet wide circuit. It steeled his men as the prepared for battle, but sadly it had to be cut short. With a motion to the small pulpit where the priest began reciting the "litanies of hate", and the "remembrance of the lost", the priest finished with "in the name of our beloved God Emperor, Amen!" Mumbled amen's and hurriedly finished prayers quickly followed the now red faced man's prayer, only to quickly stutter off into silence. Prayer and faith were all well and good, but there was a battle to be fought and he needed his crews with their heads on straight.

"We are the Borg, your technological and biological distinctiveness will be added to our own. Your culture will adapt to serve ours, resistance is futile." The voice resounded as if a thousand people spoke together as one. The message came from every communications system, speaker, and even personal listening devices in the entire flotilla.

Capt. Louis saw a few of his more senior watch standers rip off their head sets, through them to the grown before angrily stepping on them. No doubt for fear of any taint of tech-heresy that might not have been filtered out by the robust runic defenses the battleship had. Most of the crew seemed startled at the sudden hijacking of their communications systems, fear evident in their faces at the heresy they were no doubt now facing.

Capt. Louis angrily punched the flotilla communication systems override on his throne before broadcasting on a wide bandwidth to every ship in the system. "We have faced far fouler enemies then you and come off conquer! We are the emporium of mankind, and we are opening fire!" The fear that had been almost all consuming for some on the bridge, turned into raw determination for victory. He quickly clicked off the com system, as he pulled up the flotilla tactical window on his personal view screen.

Five seconds until extreme combat range was reached for their spinal mounted Lance weapons. 4…3…2…1… "Fire all lance weapons, I repeat all ships, fire Lance weapons now!"

Red lines appeared on his view screen, thick as a Leman-Russ battle tank, hurtled toward the enemy at the speed of light. The enemy could not possibly react fast enough to counter the barrage, though he had little data on the larger Xenos ships shield capabilities… if they were anything like Support Sphere Beta's had been, then the Lance weapons would strip them away, allowing for a more effective broad side once they got closer.

"Sir! We have what appear to be more powerful versions of those archiotech weapons…" his second in command, Commander Jacob, was cut off as the battleship rocked slightly. "Report! Damage?" Capt. Louis yelled over the bridge. Multiple reports with green flags, indicating that no damage had been sustained to the various systems that had reported in, appeared in his mind and on his personal screen. "No major damage sir, only a few spot flairs on the Void shields. The gravity generators on the prow had no effect on those beams sir, they must be completely energy based." Said Commander Jacob.

"Good analysis. Divert all power from those generators toward the energy shields. No use in using half the void shield suite if it won't help us against this enemy." Capt. Louis then looked at the projected enemy weapon's power levels barely stronger then a Laser-cannon, but longer ranged, much more precise, and obviously they could charge much faster. Then he quickly switched over to another window, where he could see what his Lances had done to the enemy ships. "Is this right commander Jacob? We only took down the shields for a micro-seconds?! How quickly do those dam things recharge!?" he asked no one in particular.

"Sir, it does seem two lances got through on the far right cube…" another light rocking, this one a little harder as the second volley of enemy weapons lashed out against his battleship and flotilla. Two red tagged reports appeared in his mind. Apparently the support destroyers "Saint Yovan's Revenge", and "Damnations End", had completely been obliterated … this was going to turn into a real blood bath if those weapons could keep recharging that fast on a regular basis.

A third volley struck the flotilla, and five more support craft either exploded out right or drifted, completely disabled. Capt. Louis checked the read outs, and found that his long range weapons, the powerful spinal mounted Lance weapons, were only half way recharged. A forth volley struck home, though this time only two craft were disabled. He checked the appraisal of the damage that had been done when his Lances had hit, and found that the far right Cube had two major wholes in its armor, exposing several decks to the void. He just had to get his ships closer, and then they would rip these Borg apart for sure…

Two more volleys hit home, destroying seven more support craft, and damaging the Heavy Cruiser "Macrags Honor" that started to lag behind the rest of the flotilla; before the Lance's were ready. He inspected the enemy vassals again, and found something that shocked him to his core. The furthest right Cube had repaired the damage… it was as if his Lances had never struck the first time… well no mater, he thought, let's see how they like the Lances well within effective range.

Pressing a button on his command thrones armrest, he ordered the fleet to open fire with their Lances, and any other long range weapons that might be effective. This time the thick Lance lines he saw speed away from his flotilla were accompanied by large, and powerful vortex missiles designed to damage armor and rip away entire sections of capital ships, and whole formations of lighter craft into the warp.

Nearly as quickly as the missiles were launched green energy beams appeared and destroyed them. Capt. Louis then realized the missiles would be useless against an enemy so precise, and whose weapons could recharge so quickly; he sent a short text message flotilla wide ordering them to hold fire with the missiles. The Lances however did not meet with such a fate, they struck home. The first few draining the shields, as their counterparts from the smaller ships struck against the armor. Massive craters appeared on the Cube vessels, though a few smaller craft minimized their effectiveness by sacrificing themselves to screen for the larger capitol ships. Capt. Louis had not noticed the small vessels until then, too focused on what his own forces were doing.

Where in the warp did those dam smaller ships come from? He checked the reports, and saw one was marked urgent by an orange tag. He had not noticed it, and it had been almost completely lost, buried by hundreds of other reports marked for his immediate attention. It detailed the number of screener craft, and support craft that had exited from the two new, more heavily armored vessels hangers.

The report counted a total of three large Cube craft, though two were clearly of a purely combat verity, nearly 50 smaller screener craft, some more heavily armored and armed then others, and a total of four of the Sphere craft. Each of the Cubes had disgorged a new, untouched Sphere ship from a central hanger. He had known about the Spheres before seeing the report, but not the small flotilla of screening support craft. The odds had clearly shifted, though by how much he suspected neither he, nor these 'Borg' quit knew.

He checked the progress of the special detachment he had organized. They would have to start moving toward the foreign human vassal soon, or risk getting caught in the engagement. The Saint Augustine's Rage carrying the smaller space wolf boarding vessel was still with the flotilla. Instead of doing its normal screening duties, it stayed in the shadow of "Emperor's Wrath" so that it could deliver its precious cargo and save whoever could be saved of the non-Impeirum humans.

Capt. Louis sent a text query to the Commander aboard Saint Augustine's Rage, asking when the man planned on making a break for the foreign vassal. A Green tagged message, marked high priority, appeared shortly thereafter, a message from the ships commander. Capt. Louis opened the message and read.

"Capt. Louis, the special detachment comprising of this ship, the three designated destroyers, and the additional Heavy Cruiser 'Glory of Valcov', will be breaking away after the next volley from the Xenos ships. Please provide covering fire where possible. Com-Roland, Commander of the Heavy Cruiser Saint Augustine's Rage, the Emperor Protects."

Capt. Louis sent a quick acknowledgment, and tasked several other Heavy Cruisers and support craft to provide as much covering support for the detachment as they could, directly after the next Xenos Volley. The Emperors Wrath groaned, rocking as that volley concentrated on it and the other capitol vassals in the fleet. Capt. Louis knew that most of them were fine, sustaining only minor damage.

"Damage Report" he demanded of his watch standers. On his view screen he noticed the special detachment start to break away from the Flotillas formation at .5 light speed. The detachment needed to get their quickly, and obviously didn't intend to exchange fire on their way to the foreign vessel.

"Spot flairs, and void shields Alpha, Beta and Charlie have failed completely. Secondary energy shields are holding. Deck breaches on decks thirty five, and sixty two near the fighter hangers. It appears the navigators for the fighters are cut off from the rest of the ship, but they are safe. The pilots and crew still have access to the hangers however. Also, the Heavy Cruiser 'Macrags Honor' has been completely destroyed sir…" Commander Slovack's last words cut off, thick with the grief of loosing so many comrades.

Capt. Louis nodded before saying "Get those pilots suited up and ready for launch. When we get closer we are going to launch them, and every missile we have to distract those damned energy beams. Also, tell the fighter-bombers to focus on the places in the enemy's hall that have already been damaged. It appears those ships regenerate, and I don't want to give them the opportunity to do so while we are fighting close range." Commander Slovack nodded, her eyes filled with unshed tears for the lost, but her face cold calculated professionalism.

It was then that Capt. Louis remembered that she had both a brother, and a lover aboard 'Macrags Honor.' That was not odd, In fact the Navy regularly paired ships from the same worlds together, while breaking up families in order to improve both morale, and discourage inappropriate distractions while on duty. "Fear not commander, we will honor the memory of the lost when we have opportunity to do so, and after we wreak revenge upon these Xenos for it!" His voice was anger and contempt for the Xenos incarnate. These Xenos Filth will pay dearly, he thought as rage pumped through his veins overwhelming his mood suppressors that aided both him and the crew while traveling through warp. Here however, in the cold void, those suppressors could be overwhelmed without the fear of demonic possession that such strong feelings carried while in warp transit.

"Remember all of you" he said addressing the crew "Hatred of the enemy, is the emperor's greatest gift to mankind! Use it; let it shield you against this foe as against all foes of mankind!" His crew did not turn from their duties, but by the wires that pumped his crews vital sign information into his mind, he knew that he had touched them all; rage would become their shield just as the 'Emperors Wrath' was their sword.

Capt. Louis looked at his flotilla readout again, and frowned at what he saw. None of the screener craft had even been touched, but the Battle-Cruiser 'Strife' had taken hull damage, and had lost functionality on two of its prow facing macro-cannon batteries. Its spinal mounted Lance weapon had been damaged, but was still functioning at fifty percent.

Commander Slovack broke the tense, frantic working silence "fighter-bomber crews aboard their vassal's sir, ready to launch at your command. Spinal Lance weapons flotilla wide are at 80% charge sir." As she finished updating Capt. Louis, another volley from the enemy ships battered away at their shields, and outer hull armor. Capt. Louis checked the damage reports fleet wide, even as his watch standers reported frantically, system by system, that everything was fully functioning except the hull damage that had been sustained by the previous attack.

The flotilla, as far as Capt. Louis could tell had taken relatively little damage. The 'Strife' had lost all functionality of its main Lance weapon, but had gotten one of the prow macro-cannon batteries working. Emperors Wrath and Heavens Angel had taken relatively minor hall damage though Heavens Angel had lost the ability to expel half of its fighter-bomber squadrons.

All in all, with the exception of the loss of the heavy cruiser 'Magrags Honor', the battle was going well in their favor. Another volley from the enemy vessels his home and 'emperors wrath' groaned in truth. Multiple red, high priority reports flooded in. "Damage report!" Capt. Louis yelled, barely contained anger boiling over.

"All primary forward facing void shields are down sir, relying now on secondary and tertiary shields but I don't know how long they can take a beating before they too go down." Jacob, his second in command said, worry tinting his voice slightly. Those weapons should never have been able to do that much damage… what the hell changed? Capt. Louis asked himself as he waited for further updates.

"The entire enemy flotilla focused on us sir! Every energy beam they have fired at 'Emperors Wrath' this last volley… I think they are afraid of us getting too close sir." Commander Slovack said, her voice almost sounding happy at her last remark.

"Additional hull breaches on decks fifty three, nineteen, and twelve. We have completely lost two of our starboard macro-cannon batteries are down for repairs, the engine-seers assigned to them believe they might be able to get them up and running soon after we make close range contact. Additionally approximately one third of our armored prow is now slag sir." Jacob finished reporting. "Is the prow still thick enough for us to survive ramming one of those damned Cubes?" Capt. Louis asked his voice again calm.

"Yes sir, but if the prow takes another barrage like that again? I don't know…" Jacob visibly shrugged. Capt. Louis's anger grew slightly, and he looked down at the Flotilla tactical screen. The Flotillas Lances were ready for use again. He hit the 'fire at will' command, and Lance, laser-cannon, plasma-destroyer cannon and macro-cannon batteries opened up on the enemy flotilla, while the main Lance cannons focused on the capitol ships.

At this range the macro-cannons were easily dodged, the laser-cannons had minimal effectiveness and the plasma destroyer cannons didn't even reach the enemy flotilla before dissipating; but the main and secondary batteries of Lances struck home to devastating effect. The heavily armored cube to the far right of the formation, nearly healed from the last Lance barrage, was almost cut in two as every lance in his fleet struck it somewhere. Its shields temporarily flickered, absorbing the first few; a few support craft blocked some of the weaker lance batteries; these were the Cubes only saving grace however as almost every deck, and an internal open space was opened up to the void. Thousands upon thousands of Borg were thrown into the void by the explosion.

The return salvo was precise, and much more powerful and effective than any that had come before it from the Xenos. Each green beam focused on the prows of every ship in Capt. Louis's flotilla, aiming for and destroying the massive spinal mounted Lance cannons. The only ships that were able to absorb the damage with their shields were the capitol class vassals. As Capt. Louis looked at the damage reports that flooded in he realized that only three heavy cruisers, both of his Battle cruisers, and his own Emperors Wrath, were able to maintain even minimal main-lance functionality; though another five heavy cruisers said it would be restored before close contact.

"Sir, all primary void shields have been restored to full functionality, along with one of those battery's of macro-cannons we had lost. Those Engine-seers work quickly huh sir?" The voice came from a young watch stander, a women, a girl really, who had been put in charge of damage control management throughout the ship.

"Indeed they do lieutenant Ester. That is good news I suppose, after we had just lost our main means of long range attack…" She nodded, expression turning glum, and then returned to her duties. She was the same lieutenant who had taken too long to send her report to him earlier. She was new, so he supposed he could let it slide this time for her bravery in addressing him directly rather than sending a text report; but in the future there would be hell to pay for being either purposefully slow, or incompetent.

Capt. Louis looked over the flotilla's tactical display one more time, and saw the special detachment still going at remarkable speeds toward the foreign vessel. They would be at their target only shortly before he and the rest of the flotilla were at theirs, but a few minutes meant an eternity in the void… he hoped that it wouldn't be long enough for these 'Borg' to lash out at them.


	7. Chapter 7

Authors Note: Just wanted to explain one thing about Imperium of Man ships... They all have whats called a "prow" mounted cannon... in most Sci-fi this is called a "spinal mounted" weapon, and so i decided for my ease of writing i would use this term. These prow mounted weapons are most commonly Lance weapons. Rarely they have something called a Nova cannon which is basically a giant rail gun that shoots basically a gigantic nuke that opens a rift in the warp and sucks in whatever is inside the explosion... Generally this includes squadrons of smaller craft, smaller capitol ships, or whole sections of the three mile long battleship capitol ships... However they are extremely rare, and very easily broken... so the most common weapon is the prow mounted Lance weapon... at least according to both Lexiconum, AND Battlefleet Gothic

Capt. Thomas turned the digital dial on the phaser-rifle he carried; turning the phasers modulation to… oh he didn't care anymore. As long as it was different then what it had been, as long as it was different from what everyone else was using then maybe it might have some chance of getting through the Borg's shields. He looked around at the injured, dirty, sweaty and fearful faces around him, all doing something similar with their weapons weather rifle or handheld. "Don't worry, Lt. Mira said the last thing she saw on optics before they went down, was that foreign fleet rushing in to help us. They will be here soon."A few of the people, those who were trained security officers mostly, nodded expressions determined and angry.

A light blue glow came from the room behind them, it was weak and slowly dying. Capt. Thomas knew that it was their only hope, and had been holding off the Borg from simply beaming into the room and killing them all, or worse... much, much worse. "How is the mater-stabilization field holding up Specialist Rodgers?" the engineering officer looked up from working to strengthen the field, bright red hair and chaotic freckles oddly juxtaposed to the grey and black star-fleet uniform that had only recently been issued.

"Not good sir, we have maybe enough energy to last another fifteen minutes. After that then anyone can beam into this room…" everyone knew who the man was talking about, but the tension was so high it was better not to say it out loud. Ducking his head the engineer went back to his work as he said "But I am working to rig one of our extra phasers to power it, if I can get it to work it should gain us another ten at worst, thirty at best."

Nodding Capt. Thomas took his attention back to the hallway which was lined with determined looking security officers, and navy personnel specially trained and outfitted to fight off boarding actions. Past them was a makeshift barricade of desks chairs and whatever else they could find piled in a hurried heap, and past that were two of the thick emergency blast doors. If the Borg got past those doors, they would be able to come at them down the hall way four at a time and would easily be able to overwhelm the defenders; as it was the Borg had only been able to appear in the hallway one at a time through the exhaust panels near the barricade, and with everyone firing at the same target, and their phasers on different frequencies, they had been able so far to hold off the Borg assault .Once past the defenders, the Borg would be able to easily either kill, or drag the wounded and other lightly armed members of his crew away to be assimilated.

Capt. Thomas looked back at the people in the room beyond the defenses, and saw that two more had died of their injuries and were being carried away into his privet study by the medical staff. Only forty eight crew members left then, the thought bitterly, barely enough for a skeleton crew that would be able to fly 'Glorious'. The realization was sobering to say the least.

A loud banging sound came from the duct on the right side of the hallway, and Capt. Thomas hurriedly looked back toward the defenses, raising his rifle as if to fire. An augmented hand, more mechanical then flesh appeared, followed swiftly by the rest of the drone.

As soon as the head was visible, every rifle, in every pair of hands unleashed bright streams of hell into the abomination, to little effect. Capt. Thomas pressed the trigger down, adding his energy stream to the volley of death, and it found purchase. The small shield generator in the center of the creatures chest evaporated, followed swiftly by the rest of the creature as its personal shield flickered and failed.

There was no shout of victory or exaltation… they were all too tired for that… they had lost too many friends for that. A small, almost feminine voice, that sounded as if a thousand others joined it, came from the air duct, and Capt Thomas thought he heard "adapting". Grief wracked Capt. Thomas as he saw the next drone to emerge from the duct, it was Terra… his former communications officer he had been forced to leave on the bridge when drones had been beamed aboard. Before they had set up the mater stabilization fields in pockets along the upper decks; before they had retaken the bridge, she had been one of the first stunned and taken back to the sphere. He raised his rifle and fired, but this time it was not his beam that punched through the shield, it was Commander Yavic.

Yavic Snarled and advanced on the duct, throwing down a small ion-grenade after the body of the drone that had once been Terra. It was one of only a handful that Yavic had had from his marine days. Technically they were contraband and not allowed on a starship as they were considered military weaponry; I don't care, if we get out of this I am buying that man a drink and giving him a God-dam medal!

Yavic threw a piece of metal torn from the hallways walls over the hole; using his rifle Yavic welded it in place. Halfway through the process the grenade he had thrown exploded, and light and heat could be seen and felt coming from the small cracks between the floor and the makeshift metal grate where the weld had not been finished.

The air on the deck below them was no doubt supper heated now, hot enough to overwhelm even the powerful energy shields of the up-armored drones. It would buy them another good minute or so before the Borg found another way onto the bridge. The bridge was now uncomfortably hot, though not dangerously so, and new sweat started to appear on everyone's foreheads.

Yavic finished his quick patch job with so little notice of the heat that radiated from the deck below, that Capt. Thomas thought that he was immune. When he was done he retook his position at the front with only a brief glance and nod in Capt. Thomas's direction. Returning the informal salute, Capt. Thomas stood and walked toward the barricade. Putting his hand on one of the doors through the legs of a particularly large chair, he could still feel the heat coming from the Borg's efforts to cut through the blast doors, but the drones' laser-cutters, no matter how advanced, were nowhere near the strength of the cubes which could cut even a galaxy class ship in half with little difficulty once the shields were down. These drones had a good bit of work to do yet before they could cut enough of the doors away to get to the barricade.

As Capt. Thomas was walking back to his position, he saw himself in a small reflective surface that coated a section of the wall. His black hair, which was slightly longer then regulation, was messy from him running his hands through it, soot blackened his already olive skin, and his eyebrows had been singed… in short he looked a hell of a lot worse than the men around him whose uniforms were a bit scuffed and faces somewhat dirty, and who had large bags under their eyes, and… well never mind, maybe he didn't look to much different from the rest of his crew after all.

He kneeled in his old position again before saying "there are three more ducts in this hallway that they can access, and sense we blocked the others by either collapsing them, or booby-trapping them, those are the ways they are going to try and get in. Security officers, focus on the closest; the rest of us lets split our fire between the other two." He then pointed out a few, including Yavic, to cover the mid-range duct, while he and the rest covered the furthest.

A few seconds later, all three grates broke open as one, and drones started to pour out. The beleaguered defenders held, but only just…

It was not just a waiting game… waiting for help that was just as likely to be hostile as friendly… waiting for the drones to break down the barricade… waiting for the Stabilizer to lose power… but they had no other choice. So what was left of the federation crew of the USS Glorious waited patiently to die, and fought more fiercely then they had ever done before…. That's all they could do.

Had the survivors of the USS Glorious not been absorbed in such a close, life or death struggle, or tending to the wounded, or distracted by the pain of being one of the wounded, they would have felt a small impact on the hull of their ship… They didn't have much time until they would be overwhelmed, but they would have even less time to wait, the Angels of Death had just arrived.


	8. Chapter 8

Authors Note: So... There was a formating issue that i think i have solved, though i am not sure... I apologize for the frustration, and I hope you Enjoy!

Wolf Guard Alaric was annoyed… the pups he had to escort, though better then when he had first started to watch over them, still couldn't stand still for more than half a second. "Sons of Russ!" he shouted over their whimpering and whining over being cupt up in the assault craft while on the verge of battle. "Let the blood of our enemies sate your thirst for vengeance! Remember our beloved Emperor, Remember our beloved Primarch! Let their example of bravery, courage, and restraint…" he put extra emphasis on the last word, looking each of the Blood Claws in the eye until their gaze broke from his in shame at their childish behavior. Perhaps they are further along than I thought… "There might be humans not yet introduced to the emperors benevolent light aboard this vessel! Do not under any circumstances kill one of these!"

Shifting in his terminator armor, Alaric reached behind his head and grabbed his massive weapon that hung there, attached by a magnetic strip. The great power maul slammed into the deck further emphasizing his words. "I will lead the way! Follow me brothers, and remember Honor!" Alaric moved toward the door, forced to push only slightly to get through the crowed of five blood claws now at his back.

The great wolf's head like assault craft had already latched onto the strangely elongated vessel near its head, and had cut through the hull into the top most deck. When the door opened, it acted like a ramp that the Marines could use to simply walk into the ship. Alaric's massive terminator armor enhanced bulk blocking the way was the only thing that stopped the blood claws from rushing in and cleansing the ship of anything living.

Alaric took a second to peer into the enemy vessel, it was bright, and its hallways seemed quite small, though just big enough to hold his bulk. Alaric smiled in his helmet, a wolfish smile that would have been unmistakable by any who would have seen it. The Blood Claws behind him started hoping from foot to foot in anticipation, revving chain-swords and needlessly reloading their bolt-pistols with the ship-board shotgun ammo he had given them.

"Forward young brothers! Kill the Xenos!" and they charged. Alaric ran first, his bulk blocking the others, and forcing them into some semblance of an orderly charge. The ships floors bent slightly under him as he jumped down from the assault crafts door, seconding as a ramp.

The vessel was oddly white, hurting his gene seed enhanced eyesight only slightly as they quickly adjusted to the overly bright environment. It had the feel of one of the yachts that Alaric had seen so many imperium worlds' governors having owned, comfortable… soft… a waste of resources. But Alaric had seen this ship take on two of the Xenos vessels equal its size, destroying one and giving the other a run for its money before being completely incapacitated.

"No Xenos contacts on this level brothers." Alaric turned and saw that one of the Blood Claws had actually done his job. "Brother Marcus, good job securing that hull breach." Alaric praised the young pup, before ripping off his terminator helmet and letting it fall at his waist band hanging on a metal chain that attached at his waist. The other marines all did the same; eager to use their gene seed enhanced wolf senses to find the enemy quickly.

Alaric took a deep sniff of both hallways. Pointing toward the rightward path he said "That way smells foul, as if death and fire themselves have clashed… Let us find out why brothers." He jogged down the hallway, leaving slight impressions in the deck with each step as he went; again his bulk blocking the blood claws from mindlessly running off and engaging the enemy and most likely getting themselves killed.

The air grew fouler with the stench of tech-heresy, a smell that Alaric was all to familiar with. As Alaric cleared each room, finding each empty or with the desecrated bodies of the colorfully dressed non-imperial humans, he remembered his fight at Forge World Ultharla where a Nurgle tech cult had arisen. He had fought through a thousand levels of filth incrusted machinery over the course of three months fighting alongside elements from the Salamanders who had cleansed with holy flame, and three tech-enhanced imperial guard regiments. In the end the heresy had been put down, but almost all of the manufactorums had been completely lost and he had watched as they were bombarded from orbit by imperial navy ships, the 'Emperors Wrath' had been among them.

"Brother Alaric!" came the voice of the eldest of the blood claws, and the one who acted most like a full-fledged brother. "The walls change around the next bend, coated with what looks like Xenos technology." Alaric had let two of the elder blood claws scout ahead while he and the others cleared the rooms. Pulling his bulk through the door, bending the frame slightly, Alaric looked down the hallway to where blood claw johnathen stood, bolt pistol raised no doubt covering for his slightly jr companion as he finished sending Alaric his visual scan of the xenos tech.

The deck shook slightly as Alaric moved towards the pair. "how extensive is the intrusion Blood Claw Johnathen?" he asked as he arrived, turning the corner to see the Marines companion trying to make heads or tails of the odd network of running wires which looked as if a tech-priest had ripped the deck apart just to see how it worked.

"Pervasive Brother Alaric. It would be my guess that it goes further than just this hallway, probably appears on every level that the xenos have taken." The marine keeled down, putting his gauntleted fist to the deck in an effort to sense the vibrations of movement.

"Blood Claw Johnathan that would work if we were not in power armor, but seeing as we are, the vibrations from your brothers behind us will no doubt cover any that might emanate from normal human or xenos steps. Neat trick though…" his voice was even and calm, and instructor to his pupil.

"with all due respect Brother Alaric, there are far to many vibrations to be coming just from our group, and they are heavy, almost as heavy as we are sir." The mans voice was filled with concern, not fear, after all space marines knew no fear, but they did know when the best plan was to attack, and when the best option was to regroup, and that generally involved being grossly outnumbered by forces of near equal in both skill and strength. After thinking for a moment, the young blood claw grew a wicked smile on his face, bearing his fangs and looking down the hall where they had not yet gone; as if the hunt was on and he knew exactly where his prey could be found.

"Blood claw, don't let your eagerness for battle cloud your judgment." Alaric said, voice severe and scolding, with a low growl behind every word; an alpha wolf who was worried that the eagerness of the young would lose the starving pack the catch. Alaric grabbed the blood claws shoulder, stepping in front of both of them, making his massive terminator armor enhanced bulk block the path. "The elderly first young ones" Alaric grinned, showing his own fangs, then pressed a button on the small control penal on his arm ordering the blood claws to regroup on his position.

Turning around Alaric was about to start down the hall, when a human sized and heavily augmented humanoid appeared from around another bend. The augmented Xenos kept walking, ignoring Alaric as if he were not even there. Alaric lifted his Bolt pistol and let loose a barrage of shotgun rounds into the creature's chest. A personal shield flared light green in multiple places, blocking some of the projectiles, but the rest got through and ripped its chest apart, blowing the creature off its feet. Now prone, and still, the light from the creatures augmented eye slowly died.

"Not such a danger after all" Alaric whispered to himself and the two blood claws chuckled slightly behind him. "Truly no danger a space wolf sir" the more Jr. of the two, blood claw Edger said. Alaric heard the rest of the small pack start to form up behind him, as small acknowledgment signals appeared on his arm display. A short few seconds later, when all of them had reported in position, Alaric started forward, stepping on the creature to a soft squashing and hard crunching sound as both its biological and technological parts were pulverized by the terminator armors massive weight.

At first Alaric was walking, then he began to do what can only be described as lazily lopping. The hallway rang with his heavy footsteps, and no doubt a few decks down they could hear them as well. Just as he was about to turn the corner the first xenos had come from, three more covered in thick heavy armor plates turned the corner. Quicker than any non-augmented human could, Alaric lifted the hammer one handed over his head, and brought it down on top of the first of the three security drones, crushing it with a satisfying squash/crunch. The other two drones reacted just as quickly, jumping back from the massive weapon that crackled with strange warp energies.

Alaric's chest plate grew mildly warm, as he saw two smaller versions of the enemy's ship based beams leap at him, striking him in the chest. Lifting his Bolt pistol he shot the second in the head, again the shields flared but held more of the shotgun pellets back this time then the last. Just enough got through however, to decapitate the creature completely, as the ball bearings tore through flesh and machinery with impunity.

Letting out a howl of rage and triumph, Alaric again raise his hammer and taking a step forward brought it down on the creature. The drone leaped out of the way and fired again, this time striking Alaric on the left leg; his leg guard also grew warmer than usual.

"Die xenos!"Alaric screamed as he hurled his hammer to the side, crushing the drone against the hallways wall, again a satisfying squish/crunch followed by crackling lighting from the hammer, brought a smell of cooked flesh, an charred circuitry into the air.

His breathing only having mildly increased, Alaric turned the corner and found five more of the Xenos drones going about their various duties. The hallway was lined with pods, members of the crew wearing the oddly colored uniforms of the foreign humans were inside being augmented slowly by what could only be nanites.

"Release them foul Xenos!" Alaric shouted, followed by howls and growles from behind him. Two blood claws charged past him through the gap that had been made by him turning the corner, bearing their teeth, chain-swords revving. They felled the unarmored drones with little difficulty, chain-swords being wielded with the massively augmented strength of a space marine hesitating only for a second on the green personal shields that flared bright before failing.

Alaric didn't bother with the creatures, his attention was focused on their victims. He walked up to one pod, and hit his vox transmitter. "Alaric to Rage, Alaric to Rage, can you read me?" a somewhat static y reply came through, broken but understandable.

"Rage to Lord Alaric, we read you though there is some static interference."

"I need to speak to your Tech-Priest, I have some strange Xenos tech, and I need directions as to how to proceed." Silence filled the other end of the vox connection as the communications ensign no doubt terrified at having to speak with a tech priest AND a space marine in the same channel forged the connection.

"This is tech-priest Lilliana what is it Space Marine?" the voice was both feminine and mechanical, oddly reminiscent of the Borg Queens first transmition.

After describing the situation, and showing the pods to the tech-priest via his helmet vid catcher he turned his helmet that had been hanging from his waist so the tech priest could see him. "What do you think Tech-Priest? Can they be saved?"

A short silence followed as she no doubt contemplated the situation. "To be honest my Lord, I don't know. Perhaps these foreign humans would know more, however if these pods are changing their victims into these drones you have been fighting, I wouldn't take the tactical risk of leaving them behind you. However, killing them if they could be saved might damage relations with any survivors should you find any. It is completely your call, however the ship its self cannot be saved and will need to be destroyed regardless."

Nodding to himself Alaric dropped his helmet to hang at his waist, cut the connection with the tech-priest by pressing a button on his arm console, pulled his Bolt-Pistol from its holster and fired at one of the more heavily augmented victims. "Blood Claws, destroy any who have visible signs of mutation or Xenos augmentation, leave the others as we might be able to save them later on. Begin Purge" at his last command the blood claws started shooting, cutting, and biting the would be drones to pieces. At the end of it, only four victims, those who were completely un-augmented were spared, removed from the pods, and left lying on the ground for an extraction team that Alaric called for from Rage.

Alaric led the blood claws down a shaft they found at the end of the long hallway. They went past three decks that had lost all atmospheric pressure where they had had to put on their helmets. Finally finding a pressurized deck and closing the blast door behind them, the Space Wolves moved deeper into the heart of the foreign vessel, Alaric at their head.

This deck unlike those that had lost pressure, was not encased in the odd xenos technology. It was again the overly bright white that these foreigners seemed so fond of, and it hurt Alaric's eyes to look at it for too long.

They moved with as much professionalism as the young blood claws could muster, clearing room after room, and slaughtering the unarmored drones whenever they came across them. They seemed to be preparing this deck for the same treatment as the others, but had not quite gotten around to the work yet.

They entered a large main hallway, and found a hoard of the armored drones standing still outside of a closed blast door. The farthest back turned to see what had entered the room, and Alaric commenced the work of death. Howling in rage at the creatures, he swung his massive hammer and crushed the first, blue lightning crackling, lashing out at the two on either side of the now crumpled figure.

The blood claws descended upon their prey, cutting, shooting, biting and ripping with every ounce of strength they could muster. Blood Claw Johnathan leaped over the line that his brothers had formed, and dove head long into the mass of creatures, ripping a massive whole in their ranks as he swung his space marine sized chain-sword in arch after arch around him. Blood and machine parts hit the floor in equal measures. On the far left, Alaric could see in the corner of his eye, as one of the youngest blood claws was forced down to the ground overwhelmed by the sheer press of bodies.

Alaric, in a rage that he had not felt for some time, swung his hammer with both hands, crushing three of the drones against the hallways wall, and off of the beleaguered young marine. The blood claw stood, and Alaric could see pieces of his armor had started to be pulled away, exposing parts of his neck and upper chest. Blood splattered across his chest plate, but the blood claw was a Space Marine and they never gave up, even when against impossible odds, even when held down they always found a way to fight back, to deny the enemy.

Alaric clapped the boy on the back, and laughed, Emperor it was good to be in a good fight again! He grabbed the nearest drone with his free hand, having dropped his empty bolt pistol in the melee, allowing it to swing at his waist with his helmet, and crushed its head in his armored hand. "Fear not brothers! The emperor is with us today!" he yelled over the sounds of servos whirring, bones and mechanical parts being crushed, and the howls and screams of rage that came from the blood claws, some now lost to the blood lust of the hunt.

Alaric grabbed for his Bolt pistol at his waist, raised it, and unloaded the full clip into the hoard of heavily armored drones felling three more of the creatures. Over the howling and angry screaming of the blood claws, Alaric could hear a faint low rumbling coming from the drones. Alaric smashed the face of another beast with his armored gauntlet as he tried to focus in on what the creatures were saying.

Faintly he could make out "adapting" over and over from all of the drones each time one fell. So, they believe they can adapt to a space wolfs fury do they?! "DIE XENOS SCUM!" Alaric bellowed as he swung the thunder hammer, crushing another opponent.

A scream of pain and pure rage erupted from the blood claw next to Alaric, the same young brother who had been held down earlier. Alaric turned and saw the man's chest plate burning bright red as multiple beams converged. The blood claw was in the process of disemboweling his latest kill, when he finally succumbed, crumpling to the floor unconscious from the shear pain.

Blood claw Johnathan ran out of the corner of Alaric's vision and into the clump of drones that had felled his brother, screaming "Die Scum!" Blood and metal parts flew into the air as his chain-sword revved and delivered killing blow after fatal blow.

Alaric lumbered toward the fallen warrior, casually crushing the skull of another drone with his power-fisted hand as he went. Bending down, Alaric found only one heart beet, the man's main heart had stopped beating under the strain of blood loss and shock of having his cerimite breast plate seared to his chest. The torrent of blood that had come from the man's chest had stopped when the plate had been seared to it, the black carapace under his skin protecting his organs from the molten cerimite; the blood claws body had begun entering into a state of suspended animation in order to protect him further from the severe damage he had taken.

Nodding at the blood claws luck, Alaric stood, swinging his hammer and taking the arm off of one of the drones. The drone quickly raised its other arm, and shot him in the chest, his plate grew warm but he was in no real danger. Lifting the hammer again, he crushed the injured drone into a puddle of mechanical and biological goo. "The Emperor protects us brothers! Brother Ivan yet lives! Fight on and butcher these ingrates in His Holy Name!"

Alaric charged, bolt pistol spent, hammer swinging in wide arch's crushing drone after drone. The battle was fierce and the blood claws fought with reckless abandon that belayed their terrible skill in the killing arts. The drones fought back with a cold calculated precision, and twice Alaric had to rescue one of the young blood claws as they were overwhelmed by the sheer numbers; but the battles outcome, though fierce, was never in doubt to Alaric. After all, they were Space Marines from the Space Wolf Chapter.

Alaric stood over the last drone still alive, and brought his heavily armored terminator enhanced foot down; crushing its skull despite the increasing resistance from the green shields the creatures seemed to all have.

It was something that concerned Alaric slightly; these creatures' shields were getting more and more effective. Though as of yet they had not been anywhere near powerful enough to even inconvenience his Space Marines in close combat; he was certain however that if any of them had had any shotgun ammunition left at the end of the battle, the weaker non-bolt shells might have had little effect against the eerily green shields.

Shaking his head in disgust at the Xenos filth on his armored boot, Alaric turned his attention to the door the Xenos had been trying to get through. It was a great blast door, probably a good few inches thick, and the drones had been trying to get through it with their small, red cutting lasers; they had almost gotten through when we showed up, he thought.

"Any survivors of this vessel, back away from the blast door. I am going to be coming through it in fifteen seconds!" Alaric's voice rang through the hall, and could obviously be heard through the door, but he had to wait as the auto translator that tech-priest aboard the Wrath had installed in his armor, translated his High Gothic, into the ancient earth dialect "English".

After the translator machine spirit had finished its work, Alaric waited for the count of fifteen. Using his power fist enhanced strength, Alaric punched the welded seal on the door creating a chest sized whole; then pried the door away from its frame with little effort.

Two of the beam weapons lashed out, scoring hits on Alaric's right arm but doing nothing more than warming the ceremite. "Hold your fire you morons! They might be friendly's!" the gruff voice was translated by the machine spirit as the man was speaking. The spirit was getting more use to the odd old earth dialect.

Alaric filled the door way, not permitting the blood claws to get passed him with his shear bulk; they would have probably leaped at these foreigners before they had a chance to speak. Not willing to let his own undisciplined warriors further the incident, Alaric maintained his position as one of the blood claws tried to force his way past the terminator wearing marine. Alaric growled and bared his teeth at the young blood claw, the pure image of the alpha wolf asserting his dominance over inexperienced and undisciplined yearlings.

"Back with the rest of the pack blood claw, unless you wish to challenge me!?" Alarics voice was pure acid. It was with great satisfaction that he saw the blood claw throw back his ears, and bear his neck to Alaric in an odd half bow of contrition as he backed slowly away.

Alaric's gaze went back to the foreigners, they were covered in soot, and a light blue glow emanated from the room. He counted five, five crew members in various colors that probably depicted a ranking system of some kind. "Who is your leader? We need to evacuate you off of this ship, we have transports waiting and ready if you will go." His voice was calm and professional, and it transferred easily through the Machine spirit as it changed his words into the ancient tong.

A man obviously human, who sustained a head wound in a past battle of some kind as the skin was drawn back in furrows, stepped forward. "I am Lt. Japar, of the Ugresh line; Star-fleet officer of the United Federation of Planets. Thank you for the assist, I am sorry about these undisciplined fools!" He turned around and looked at the three men and one women who stood holding the odd looking rifles and trying not to be noticed by their superiors gaze. "They are not trained for combat as extensively as I would like, but they are brave and that's more than half of what a warrior must be. The rest is mainly not being stupid, but that comes with time, time that they don't have. We would welcome the help, but where are you from? Who are you?"

The man's eyes were not normal for a human, but then again minor mutations were common among the various groups of humanity who had not yet encountered the Imperium. "My name is Alaric, of the Space Wolf's Space Marine chapter within the Imperium of mankind. Are there any other survivors with you?" the translator working as he spoke.

"Perhaps, I know our captain went down to the lower decks trying to help others who were trapped. He left us here to hold the bridge." The security officer said motioning to the room behind them. As Alaric looked past the five other ship personnel he saw a large number of people with minor injuries. There were two blue coated medical personnel, evident by the care they took with the injured; walking in and out of another room off to the side of the bridge, another soft blue light emanated from it as the medical officers moved between the two rooms.

Nodding, Alaric moved further into the room taking care not to harm the five navy officers. The blood claws followed closely, entering the room and spreading out to fully secure the room. Alaric attached his hammer to the magnetic sheath across his back, and walked toward the secondary room.

He peaked in and saw medical personnel treating the severely injured; the room was filled with those who suffered massive head injuries, multiple broken limbs and in some cases even greater injuries. The total was greater than he had originally expected, but he had been in far worse situations and come out alive.

Turning toward the security officer, Alaric said "I will leave my most experienced blood claw here aid you in securing the room, while our navy personnel come in and evacuate you and your people." The severely scared man nodded.

"Thank you. You and your men have saved many lives today, you will be honored in the halls of my forefathers, and ever remembered as a friend of my clan." Swiftly saluting putting both fists to his chest and extending them, saying some foreign phrase in a guttural language that Alaric's translator marked as unknown.

Nodding at the warrior's words and the gesture of respect, for that was surely what it had to have been, Alaric pointed at one of the four remaining blood claws. "Johnathan, you will remain with these foreigners and assist them with holding this point until you are relieved by navy security personnel." The young blood claw opened his mouth as if to protest, but Alaric silenced him with a gaze as hard as steel. Bowing he took up station near the door, swiftly cleaning the metallic and organic matter from between his chain-swords vicious teeth. If Alaric didn't know better he would have sworn the man was sulking.

"Johnathan, you will not be able to communicate with the foreigners very well. I will be taking the translator machine spirit with me as the rest of us go to find this captain of theirs, do you understand?" The marine nodded his understanding, though somehow managed to exude even more disappointment at the assignment without changing anything about his appearance.

Sighing, Alaric started to move toward the hallway once more when a small wisp of a women purposefully got in his way. "Excuse me sir, but you won't have to worry about him not being able to communicate with us. We have a universal translator technology as well, and if I were given the opportunity to examine your device and download its memory banks I would be able to rig our system to work just as well as your own. I could distribute it to every member of our crew as well, so there would be no confusion as to what was happening or what everyone was saying." The stream of words came out in an avalanche, and the small women seemed to give no head to the fact that the giant was twice her height.

Alaric looked quizzically at the women for a moment before saying "are you the tech-priest of your people?" he knew that she might not fully understand what he was asking, but he hoped she understood enough to give him a truthful answer.

Nodding she said "I suppose I might be. Do you tech-priests maintain, create and produce your technology? Such as this extremely heavy combat armor you are wearing? Tell me, does it fit you exactly? Or is there a compartment in there that follows your natural human motions, because if you wear it like actual armor, then your physiology would be almost twice the size of a normal human being, and completely disproportionate…" Alaric could see a thousand questions waiting to spew forth from the women's lips… she was defiantly the equivalent of these peoples tech-priest. He removed the ancient devise from his arm pad and put it gently in the women's hands.

"Please ma'am, be careful with it. The Machine Spirit is ancient, and the tech-priest who gave it to me would throw a tantrum if it were damaged in any way." His words were almost completely ignored, as the women walked away, eyes sparkling as a child on All Saints Day eve with a new toy. She waved at him dismissively "oh I get it, this is someone's baby. I will take very good care of it, all I am going to do is copy the internal software and mirror it electronically so that I can build a digital interface with our software…" Alarics eyes started to glaze over as the women continued speaking, as if in another foreign language, one she shared with every tech-priest he had ever met.

IT took her only a matter of seconds for her to plug it into their system and take the information that she needed. When she handed the devise back to Alaric, he swiftly re attached it to his armor before nodding in thanks.

Motioning to the small triangle devise mounted on her uniform that up until then Alaric had assumed was simply a badge; she spoke into it saying "You see? Our devises work now too. Do your soldiers want one as well? They can be very useful." Before Alaric could thankfully decline, another man wearing the same uniform as the lady before him interrupted.

"Wow… this thing is extremely aggressive! It's like the program was designed to fight any kind of foreign program that might try to interface with it… this is incredible… it might be the key to fighting off the Borg's cyber attacks besides brute firewalls and cutting off all wireless connectivity in the ships systems…" The women's eyes went big again as she forgot all about Alaric and her offer and went right back to her work station.

Smiling slightly, both at the familiarity of the women's behavior, and that his trust had paid off with positive results, Alaric moved to where the remaining three blood claws that would accompany him to the lower decks were standing.

Me motioned wordlessly for them to follow him, and continued past them. With one look back, he saw Johnathan on his vox unite contacting the navy security forces for pick up, and the human foreigners attempting to reform their defenses this time using desks, chairs and anything else they could find, now that the door had been ripped apart by him.

Whispering a prayer of protection to the emperor for these innocents who had never experienced his light and love, Alaric led his men past their unconscious brother, and down to the lower decks.


End file.
